


The Obligatory Holiday Maul Snippets

by SLWalker



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Baking, Dress Up, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Game of Thrones: Alderaan, Gen, Gift Giving, Holidays, Kissing, M/M, Maul and children ♥, Mistletoe, Multiple Timelines, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Wingfic, taking flight, witness me, written from prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-06 15:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16835617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/pseuds/SLWalker
Summary: Snippets prompted on Tumblr (or wherever) featuring everyone's favorite zabrak in some holiday themed manner.





	1. Dani/Maul: Fireside

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to prompt me for one of your own, you can go to [this post,](https://sl-walker.tumblr.com/post/168729533764/the-obligatory-holiday-maul-meme) pick a number, universe, character or premise and send it via my ask box there, or comment with it here! So far, I have from here to December 15th accounted for. XD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for B_Radley, who asked for some Dani/Maul fireside cuddling.

“Like you don’t help Queen Breha with her hair all of the time.”

Maul ended up smiling to himself as he worked on teasing the glittering barrettes and pins out of Dani’s hair, sitting cross-legged behind her as she basked in the glow of the fireplace. “Her hair is straight, and your curls are daunting. They catch everything.”

Winter was drawing to a close; when he had been invited to an environmental summit at the same ski lodge they had visited during the Festival of Stars, this time discussing the long summer fire season and how to manage it in the many old growth forests of Alderaan, he had invited Dani along as his date. He hadn’t necessarily expected her to be free, her duties often took her any number of places well outside of the range of Corellia or Alderaan, but she had readily agreed; she landed on the platforms of the palace at Aldera, dressed in a sweater just a hint off white towards dove-gray and darker slacks, covered by a stylish modern long coat, with her hair already pinned up elaborately and sparkling. That left Maul scrambling to figure out what he could wear in order not to be an embarrassment to _her,_ since he had just planned on going casual himself.

Naturally, every scientist there (and half of their partners or more) were enchanted by her. And really, it never failed to make Maul feel warm, the way she absorbed knowledge about the subject and invited herself into the conversations, using her unique perspective as a law enforcement officer to add a different take on things.

Now, though, they had retreated to their own rental and had the evening free and plans to go skiing the day after, and Dani had asked for help getting her hair down.

“You won’t hurt me. Iron scalp here,” she said, tipping her head backwards to give him better access to the clips close to her temples, the long cascade of brown and blue falling down her back now.

“Maybe I just like taking my time on it,” Maul answered, though he realized the trap he walked into the second it left it his mouth.

Surprisingly, though, Dani didn’t take the unintentional bait. Instead, she hummed back a pleased note as he finished another clip and worked his fingers against her scalp where it had been; it was such a nice sound that Maul had to try to suppress a shiver. “I’ll bet you give the best backrubs, too,” she said, wiggling her shoulders some.

“Would you like to find out?” he asked, before he could talk himself out of it.

That got Dani to laugh, as she reached up and plucked out the last pin herself, setting it aside; the sudden brightness of the sound made Maul smile despite his own nerves immediately flaring up. “Are you kidding?” Dani asked, turning half back to eye him with mischief in her eyes. “That’s the best offer I’ve gotten all week, handsome.”

There were a number of ways that this could end up in them moving beyond the occasional makeout session. Even as he thought that, Maul realized that he wasn’t averse to the idea, however nervous he was.

If anything, the opposite.

“Here, or in a bed?” he asked, trying to keep from sounding too thready or quivery, though likely not perfectly.

Dani eyed his face over, as he reached out and slid his thumb up the side of her neck to nestle behind her ear, the rest of his fingers just barely skimming her smooth skin.

Apparently she liked whatever she saw in his expression, because she gave him a thoroughly devastating grin. “Here’s fine,” she said, turning her back to him again and rising up on her knees, pulling her form-fitting sweater over her head, revealing the long, elegant line of her back, broken only by the straps of her bra.

 _I’m a dead man,_ Maul thought, mouth suddenly dry and heart pounding, as he managed to get to his feet in one of the least graceful movements of his _life_ so he could drag the cushions out from their stack and lay them out in front of the fire for her.


	2. Bail/Bre/Maul: Kneading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for shadowmaat, who asked for the first holiday where Bail, Breha and Maul were together in GoT:A.

“Distant thoughts?”

Breha’s voice was soft enough that it seemed to settle into Maul’s stream of consciousness rather than land there and jerk him out of his contemplation. Outside, the snow was coming down heavily on Aldera, falling past the windows of the royal suite and obliterating the world beyond the cascade; inside, the fireplace was crackling not too far away, and he’d half-forgotten that he was supposed to be kneading dough right now.

“Not so far,” he said back, shaking himself out of it and turning back to the ball of dough that would, by the time he was done, become a winterberry-walnut-cinnamon-sugar dessert bread. “I was just watching the snow.”

Breha’s arms slid around his middle from behind and she stood on her toes to rest her chin against his shoulder; the press of her to his back had Maul grinning some just because. “And here, I was expecting you to be thinking of hitting the slopes.”

“You say that like I haven’t already been skiing half a dozen times this year.” Still, Maul gathered up the dough to let it rise again, setting it back in its bowl and covering it over with a towel before carefully turning, holding his flour-dusted hands out and away so he wouldn’t mess up Breha’s clothes.

Bail was busy rolling out and cutting dough for cookies down the counter; every year he could, he made hundreds of them, some elaborate and some simple and colorful. Before Maul had even gotten enough nerve to make a move on Bail, Bail had recruited him into helping; until then, Maul had no interest in kitchen-work whatsoever, but since he had wanted to be near Bail, he’d gone along with it.

Now, it turned out he was quite a fair hand at making loaves of bread people asked after, to go with all of his other hobbies.

(Occasionally, even now, he still boggled at the thought that he _had_ hobbies.)

“If you want someone to take you out so you can jump out of perfectly good airspeeders and land on wild mountains, you have someone new to provoke into going gray early,” Bail commented, tongue-in-cheek, before moving down to fold fruit filling into his newly cut dough.

Maul rested his arms around Breha, though still minding his hands. He didn’t get a chance to answer, though, before Breha gave a scoff, “I’ll pass, thanks. You’ll both just have to hope your mother can sneak away to do it.”

Since taking the crown, Mazi had not been able to get away nearly so often. Still, she did occasionally manage to sneak off to indulge Maul in his admittedly extreme sport – back-country skiing – and if he wanted to go anywhere that required a pilot, it looked like his mother remained his only option.

He smirked and pressed a kiss to Breha’s head, then slid out of her arms to turn back to the counter. “I suppose I’d best get on making more of her favorite bread then.”


	3. Obi/Maul: Body-Check

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Shadowmaat; Taking Flight, mistletoe kiss! Takes place well into the future of the series.

The threshold between the cold air outside and the warm air inside was marked by a dangling cluster of some kind of plantlife; outside, snow fell steadily and inside, several people were mingling and discussing the future of this small, extra-galactic colony in Wildspace. It was oddly pleasing that they had requested the help of a bunch of technically-unaffiliated Force sensitives to help them negotiate trade with the nearest Outer Rim world, though Maul wasn't really here so much for that part, just to back Obi-Wan up, who it turned out was quite good at getting people to get along.

Their ages had caused some surprise amongst the colony's elders, but thus far, they had been treated respectfully. Maul's wings were cause for some fascination, especially among the younger crowds -- children wanted to touch them, and young adults wanted to proposition him presumably because of them -- but it seemed to be positive attention, anyway. Even if he did turn down offers to share a bed.

(Watching Obi-Wan bristling, even sans feathers, was a little gratifying. Maul didn't seek the attention, but he _liked_ being-- wanted, maybe. Desired? He wasn't sure, but so long as Obi-Wan wasn't bristling at _him_ , it gave him a little thrill, to know that he was desired by his other-half enough to provoke some mild possessiveness.)

They had been here for almost three weeks, now, though. Even though they had done good work, he was ready to go home; to get back to his brothers and Issa and the rest of their own enclave.

"You know, according to their culture, you're supposed to kiss whoever you find under that," Quin said, sidling over free from the crowd, where Obi-Wan had doubtless been smoothing over any offense the kiffar might have accidentally caused.

Maul blinked and looked up at the plant, then eyed Quin back. "I would sooner kiss a rancor, Vos."

Quin tossed a glance back over his own shoulder, then eased himself closer, not quite in reach, grin turned wicked. Roguish. "Oh? I'm sure I could source a suit--"

The whole thing was confusing Maul; he had never gotten any impression Quinlan was interested in him in a romantic or sexual sense before. He squinted, about to ask what Quin was even _on_ about when suddenly, a blur of auburn, tan, peach and brown literally _body-checked_ the taller man into a wild stumble.

Quin was busy laughing his head off when Obi-Wan straightened himself up, face flushed, and then didn't even bother to say anything before catching the front of Maul's tunic, dragging him in and swallowing his startled huff in a very deep, very thorough kiss.


	4. Maul, Jango & Obi-Wan: Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jango gets a present from his brother and-- sort of brother-in-law, and Maul has some gifts to deliver himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Cuzosu, but it takes place in Shadowmaat's Mando!Obi AU and is used here with permission. Also, I couldn't resist Maul + children, and especially a cameo by a one-day demo expert.

"Oh, don't look so sour, _ori'vod_ , we come bearing gifts."

Jango crossed his arms, face pulled into a severe expression, but not before he held a finger up to his lips to shush Obi-Wan. "I just got Boba to take a nap."

Maul thought this whole cloning business was dodgy, but it kept Jango and Clan Fett financially comfortable despite their exile. And Jango got to be a father, which was a nice bonus. Because of both Obi-Wan's and Maul's opinions on the whole thing, the clones had an accelerated childhood, but would stop rapidly aging as they approached their late teenage years; it kept them able to be an effective fighting force in the same about of time, but it also allowed them to have the rest of their lives to live once they were done being soldiers for whoever it was that had fronted the cost for them. Originally, the Kamonians had proposed growing them without ever slowing that aging down; Jango hadn't liked that, but having backup meant he actually pushed for it to be otherwise.

(And, really, Maul could find the whole business dodgy, but he was just as complicit given he was one of their regular instructors.)

Obi-Wan grinned indulgently, softening his voice as he unslung the large seabag off of his shoulder. "We brought him presents, too."

Jango snorted, but he was already edging closer to see what it was that had been brought to him. No thanks to several factors, he didn't get off of Kamino often at all, and even when he did, it was rarely for long enough. He channeled his stir-craziness into parenting Boba and acting as instructor for the clones -- along with the other members of Clan Fett, and some others from Concord Dawn -- but it wore on him.

Maul understood that better than even Obi-Wan did; what it was to feel isolated and cut off from everything. As such, he was usually the one who Jango vented to about it, when Obi wasn't around to hear. They weren't affectionate and brotherly in the same way that Jango and Obi were, but they had their own bond.

Obi-Wan pulled out a long boxed parcel, and offered it over. "This is from both of us, for you. Though, you'll want to lock it up until Boba's older."

Jango eyed him, then the box, before taking it and stepping back to sink down on a chair. In the other room his toddler son slept; Maul cast a glance into the darkened room, checking on his-- sort-of-nephew, then went back to watching Jango.

Jango untied the ribbon on the box and lifted the burlwood lid off, only to reveal a _beskad_ with a tassel tied to the pommel, in Clan Fett colors. Probably despite himself, his eyebrows shot up and he looked up at them. "Who forged it?"

"Sal Tet," Maul answered, trying to chew down a proud little smirk when Jango's eyes went wide, a rare display of almost vulnerable surprise.

Jango pulled the saber carefully from the box, moving out of the way of them and the furniture, testing the balance of it and then eying them in suspicion. Though, Maul noticed that he definitely seemed in no hurry to give the gift back. "Who did you rob? Or did you kill some planetary leader?"

"We didn't. Actually, we saved one. And so, instead of us using our pay from here to refurbish our ship, as the royal family of Alderaan had her overhauled for us, and we used it for this. Among a few other things." Obi made a little feint towards Jango, though carefully. "But if you don't want it--"

"I didn't say that!" Jango tried to hold onto his serious expression, but after a moment more looking at his saber, it melted into a genuinely _boyish_ look of pleasure. His smile wavered, then widened as he gave an experimental jab at empty air, before trying a few more elaborate moves once he'd shifted to a clear area of the floor. But his happiness radiated off of him in ways it rarely did for anyone but Obi or (especially) Boba, and even Maul found himself smiling.

" _Dinii_ ," Jango murmured, but he still set the saber back in its box before pulling Obi-Wan into a hug. " _Vor entye, gar._ "

Obi-Wan hugged Jango back, just as tight. " _Nu draar._ Don't get sentimental, now, or else I'll think all of this rain's rotted away your brain," he replied, drawing back just to rub his knuckles at Jango's head.

Jango rolled his eyes, then upnodded at Maul. "You're not staying?"

It took Maul a second to wonder why Jango was asking that, but Obi-Wan beat him to it. "Oh, he's staying. All of his stuff is on a grav sled outside the door, though. He has deliveries to make."

Jango caught on, then shook his head, something like a fond grin on his face. "Well, you better go, they've been insufferable asking when you'd be back."

Maul hardly needed more permission than that; he took a step backwards towards the door. "If Boba wakes before I return--" highly likely, "--tell him I'll see him later."

He didn't wait any longer to get out of there.

The little brown-skinned, black-haired body impacted his legs before Maul had a chance to play catch, but he was still laughing as he hoisted the clone up into his arms. "I leave for two months and you're almost twice as big, _ad'ika_ ," he said, intentional exaggeration, as the child wrapped around his neck in a death grip. "Have you picked out a name yet?"

"Nu uh," the boy answered, squeezing hard enough that Maul almost coughed. It was quiet in the large bunk room otherwise; the others were all asleep, though Maul had no doubts they would wake up soon, especially if they heard his voice. It wasn't overly a surprise that this one was awake; he didn't march to the same beat as most of his brothers, and sometimes struggled with sleeping (as well as focusing), though he was sweet and sharp and sensitive otherwise. "Waitin' for you," the boy added, tucking his now tear-damp face into Maul's neck.

(There were plenty of times when the boy was still an infant that Maul would walk back and forth across the floor, said boy cradled on his shoulder, soothing. How Maul got himself into that situation, even he didn't know, but the learning curve of child care had been necessarily swift and he didn't regret it for a moment.)

Another bone of contention with the Kaminoans was what to do with the clones who deviated too far from template. Left up to the dispassionate Kaminoans, they likely would have been terminated without intervention; in something of a very angry desperation, Maul insisted that he be given charge over them, and thus, he now had a group of clone children he was responsible for, ranging from the physical age of two to six, and Cam -- previously known only as Ninety-Nine -- as his assistant. And as soon as another one 'washed out' of tests and initial assessment, he was snapping them up; the Kaminoans didn't honestly care, so long as someone else was handling them.

If Maul wasn't careful, he'd have a planet's worth of children before it was done, but at least he had help from Obi-Wan, Jango, Cam and a few of the softer-hearted (or softer-headed) Mandos who lived here.

Now, he shushed the boy, who was settling down, and rubbed at his back and turned to carry him back outside of the room. "What do you say you help me unpack all of the presents I brought you and your brothers? Then back to bed?"

"You brought presents?" The boy pulled his head back, almost black eyes gone wide, face still damp. "What kind of presents?"

"All kinds." Soft toys for the clones who were still toddlers, for all the longer that period of their lives lasted; more complicated ones for the older brothers. All small, there was only so much Maul could pack in crates and buy in bulk and bring back, but it was better than nothing. "If you promise to go back to bed, I'll let you pick yours special."

"Okay!" The boy squeezed around his neck again, then wiggled to be let down; once Maul put him on the ground, he was running on his still-sometimes-clumsy legs for the crates and not bothering to keep his high pitched squeal of delight to himself.

Maul just smiled, shook his head, and followed. Morning on Kamino would come soon enough, and he thought that it would be a good one.


	5. Obi/Maul: Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speculative future: A scene that might happen sometime in Blackbirds: Year Two, or hell, maybe even in Year Three. Bail manages to convince his best friend and his best friend's Jedi to dress up fancy and attend one of Bre's galas.

"Oh, come on, you look great."

Maul eyed Bail through the mirror, then went back to checking the fit of the doublet he'd been prodded, poked and cajoled into wearing. He had to admit that it suited him, so far as he was able to discern; at least, it matched well to his own natural coloration and even though the high collar of it made him constantly want to tug at it, it did add a-- sense of being regal or noble somehow. It was far fancier than anything he had ever worn, anyway, and he wondered how long the Organas had been planning this, to have it ready but for a few alterations.

"I feel like I'm playing dress-up," he finally concluded, dropping his hands and rolling his shoulders. It was tight, though not so much so that he couldn't move. "How did I let you talk me into this?"

"Because you love me." Bail grinned even more broadly, before pushing him towards the door. "Enough preening, time to go and knock your other-half speechless."

Maul rolled his eyes; he didn't understand how Obi-Wan would find this anything special, especially considering that Obi-Wan had seen him in various states of undress. It wasn't as if there was much mystery left. He knew what all was stuffed into this outfit. Still, despite Maul's exasperated huff, he let Bail steer him out the door and towards the great hall where the gala was going on.

Of course, the sound of all of those people in there, past where the pages were minding the door, had him immediately balking and tempted to turn around and beat a quick retreat.

Bail stopped himself, then tilted his head. "You okay, Maul?"

Maul made a little flapping gesture at the door. "There are _people_."

"Yeah, there are. But you're not the only non-human in attendance. And I've got a much bigger distraction than you hanging around this evening, so all you have to do is go in, drop Obi-Wan's jaw to the floor, pay your regards to Bre and then you can leave if you want." Bail pegged his eyebrows up, hopefully. "Half your squad's already in there vacuuming up the finger foods, you can't bow out now."

"Half? All of them are, I'm sure." Still, it was unfair of his best friend to give him that look, and Maul narrowed his eyes back. "If you think anyone's going to talk me into dancing..."

"No dancing," Bail promised, solemnly. Then, he added with a hint of mischief, "Unless the spirit takes you, anyway."

Maul palmed over his face, being careful not to smudge the gold eyeliner Bail had sweet-talked him into wearing (and applied himself, as Maul wouldn't let anyone else near his eyes with a pointy pen), and then shook his head, squared his shoulders and walked forward like he _wasn't_ completely out of his depth and bound to look like an idiot.

Tango dropped a champagne flute and turned nearly scarlet, as it shattered and a mouse droid came quickly to get it up. Half the Blackbirds catcalled him, which had Maul's face flaming. Raze gave him two thumbs up, though his cheeks were pouched out around finger foods, while a waiter stood by with a tray and a little grin. Even Shiv paused, from where he was dancing with a zeltron who was wearing-- surprisingly little, for a formal function, just to eye him over and then give a slow nod that didn't need translation.

Maul tried to back up, and Bail just put a hand between his shoulders and nudged him forward instead.

He was so busy trying to figure out an exit, or at least find the quietest spot in the room, that he almost didn't see the similarly dressed Jedi who was staring at him with his jaw dropped.

When he did spot Obi-Wan, though, his awareness of the crowd faded into the background.

Instead of black and red and gold, Obi-Wan was dressed in various blues and silvers; his hair was nearly combed and his beard trimmed, and the color of his own outfit brought out the blue of his eyes. It took Maul several moments to realize his own mouth was hanging open, taking in the way that the clothing had-- actually somewhat changed the man's appearance. Under the light of the candle droids floating around, the reddish cast of his hair showed up, and he went from gaping to outright beaming as he came forward.

"You look amazing," Obi-Wan said, taking Maul by his upper arms and holding him back enough to look him up and down.

"You look-- different," Maul managed to answer, face still unaccountably hot. "Good, I mean. Good different," he added, when Obi-Wan looked back up at his face and grinned broadly, the lines at the corners of his eyes speaking of laughter.

"It makes all of the standing around for alterations worth it." Obi-Wan shook his head, then went to say something else when there was a chirp-- above them?

Maul frowned a little and looked up at the droid with some manner of foliage, which was hovering over their heads out of reach. "What's that?"

"Shepherd's berry," Bail said, standing there and looking insufferably proud of himself. "You're supposed to kiss anyone you find under it. Alderaanian tradition."

"Oh, is it?" Obi-Wan asked, archly, eying Bail. But then he rolled his eyes, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Maul's cheek.

It was all they could really get away with in such a public venue, but that didn't stop Obi-Wan from murmuring in Maul's ear, "I'll save the best part of that for later," with his voice low and smooth, filled with promise.

Or the way Maul spent the next hour feeling off-balance and a little heady waiting to see what the 'best part' would end up being.


End file.
